


The Liberation of Oliver Queen

by callistawolf



Series: Spank!Verse [1]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Light BDSM, Light Masochism, No Smut, Romance, Romantic Friendship, Spanking, post-2x15
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-10
Updated: 2014-03-10
Packaged: 2018-01-15 05:18:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1292806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callistawolf/pseuds/callistawolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oliver Queen is off his game and its taking a toll on not just his mood but his performance in the field.  During a heated discussion, he and Felicity stumble onto a possible solution for his issues.  What follows opens up a whole new world for the both of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Liberation of Oliver Queen

**Author's Note:**

> MAJOR thanks to LicieOIC for her guidance, advice, beta skillz and encouragement with this story! It wouldn't have happened without her and she deserves a great deal of the credit for this. 
> 
> Rating reflects the mature subject matter but there is no smut. No kissing either, actually. Eventually though. ;) Everything in good time! 
> 
> Will likely be expanding this in the future with more related stories to show the progression of this relationship.

After his confrontation with Slade, Oliver Queen was a mess. The worst part of that was he couldn’t let on that he was a mess to anyone.  To his mom and Thea, he had to act as if he hadn’t known Slade Wilson before that night.  To his team, he had to act as though he was in control of the situation.  They looked to him as their leader and he didn’t want to, _couldn’t_ , let them down.  

But he was a _mess._

The first hint of just how much a mess Oliver was came the day following his confrontation with Slade at the Queen manor.  It was a routine mission; he’d gone with with Sara to interrogate a henchman that Felicity had found after spending all day on her computers, looking for information about Slade.  The man had done several jobs for his old friend in the months since he’d been in Starling City.  They had an address and a picture, it should have been an easy intimidation maneuver.  This sort of scene was his bread and butter, after all, scaring thugs what was he was known best for. 

But everything went wrong.  His focus was all over the place because he was constantly worried about everything and everyone in his life.  He would have been better off sending Sara on her own to deal with the man but he hadn’t wanted to give up the control to her. Oliver told himself it was because even though Sara was capable, he worried about her safety.  But he knew he also wanted to be behind the steering wheel.  This vendetta Slade had against him, that was his responsibility.  And he would deal with it. 

The henchman was smarter than he looked, however, and was able to get under Oliver’s defenses.  He’d been so busy thinking ahead to what he was going to ask the guy, that he hadn’t noticed that his footing wasn’t secure and that the henchman had the high ground. In an instant, the man had a knife to Oliver’s throat and it was only Sara’s presence and her quick reflexes with the bow staff that saved his life. 

Afterwards, as they headed back to the Foundry, Oliver felt more out of sorts than ever.  Sara tried to get him to talk to her about it, but how could he?  He’d very nearly lost his life, all because he couldn’t find his focus, his _center_.  Slade had him running for the hills already and the infuriating thing was, the man knew it.  Oliver had seen that knowledge shining in his former friend’s one eye the night before.  

By the time they reached the Foundry, Sara was frustrated with him.  She excused herself to Verdant, saying she needed a drink and her shift started in a half hour anyhow.  Which left Oliver slumping down the stairs alone, recriminations beating around in his mind like ping pong balls.   _Stupid.  Stupid and careless._

Felicity was at her computers, as usual, and she hopped up as soon as he entered.  

“Where’s Sara?” she asked, looking behind him for signs of his ever-present sidekick. 

“Verdant.”  He didn’t want to talk.  Maybe he didn’t mean for his reply to come out as terse as it did, but if she was rebuffed by his attitude, then he wouldn’t have to worry about unloading on her. 

“I was listening on the comms,” she told him, reaching out for his arm with her hand.  He yanked away as though she might burn him and he saw a line form between her eyebrows.  “I know what happened and how you almost… Oliver, what’s going on?”

He felt a wave of irritation.  He knew she often listened in on the comms so she could keep track of the mission and help out if needed, but right then, it was just another thing wrong.  “Not now, Felicity,” he growled. 

“Yes, now.  I’m worried about you, Oliver.  You’re not… _you_.”

The concern in her voice was very nearly his undoing. He looked away from her large, concerned eyes and gritted his jaw.  “I just lost my focus, is all.  It was an off night.”

He stepped away from her, needing the space from her far too perceptive gaze.  Even as he moved around the computers and towards the sparring equipment, he could feel her tracking him. 

He nearly didn’t hear her as he stripped off his hood and leathers, preparing to work the training dummy. But as he pulled on the soft pants he used to train in, he heard her mutter distinctly, “I thought you just 're-focused' last night with Sara.”

There wasn’t any heat to it and he knew Felicity was above petty jealousy.  He was actually quite pleased at how well the two women got along, all things considered.  But he did know that his sexual decisions bothered her occasionally.  She seemed to think he was better than he actually was and while that was a nice fairy tale, the reality was that he needed the release from his burdens that sex provided. However, it seemed his old habits weren’t nearly as effective as they’d been before and instead of releasing his burdens, his stress seemed to only be piling up lately.  

He turned to Felicity and fixed her with a hard glare.  “Excuse me?” 

She looked up, a little startled that he’d heard her but the quirk of her eyebrow told him she wasn’t intimidated by him.  She never had been.  “I think you heard me just fine,” she said as she bent to gather her purse and jacket.  “Mind if I leave?  Looks like the fun’s over for tonight.” 

Oliver stalked over to her, getting right up in her face.  She didn’t move an inch, just craned her neck back to meet his eye. “Yes, I do mind,” he growled.  “I do not have sex to focus.” 

“Alright then, why do you have it? I know its not for love.  I adore Sara just as much as anyone else, but you and I both know that you two are not in love.”

“It’s none of your business.”

Her grey-blue eyes snapped at him.  “Excuse me.  You almost died tonight.  Please don’t do me the discourtesy of thinking that where your head is at is not very much my business.”

“I don’t want to talk about it!”  She was getting to him and it was making his skin prickle with unease.  He’d forgotten that he couldn’t intimidate her like could someone like Roy.  She had a habit of standing toe to toe with him and it unnerved him under the best of circumstances, but now… Felicity never had taken his shit and it grated on him to realize that he didn’t know what to do with it.

The kicker was he wanted to talk to her, to tell her everything like he usually did but this just felt too real, too important.  And far too close to the surface.  He knew he had feelings for Felicity and keeping the lines drawn between them was the only thing saving him from tainting her with his darkness. 

“Tough!” she yelled back at him.  “Because I do!”

“What good would it do?”

“Keeping things stuffed up inside you will only make things worse, Oliver.  You have to let it out.”

“Fine!  I do it to forget.  Happy now?”

Felicity looked at him, her expression gentling and he almost couldn’t stand it.  He’d rather have her angry with him because then he could be angry at her.  Her compassion would undo him.  

“Does it work?  Or does it just give you more things to have to forget?  Is that why you keep making stupid mistakes?” she challenged him. 

Oliver bristled.  “I am not making stupid mistakes.”

“You could have fooled me.  What do you call almost getting yourself killed tonight?”

He growled.  She had him cornered and he didn’t like it.  “Maybe the sex thing isn’t working like I’d hoped,” he finally admitted. 

“Maybe you should try something different then, since the sex you’re having is clearly not doing the trick,” she told him. 

“Are you asking for the job?” he asked, sarcasm edging his voice.  

Felicity’s mouth fell open in shock and he immediately regretted what he’d said.  She was the _last_ person he wanted to hurt. But before he could voice his regret, her hand flew up and smacked across his face, the crack echoing through the empty Foundry.  His face stung sharply, the pain blooming out from his cheek to spread across his face and down his neck.  

The silence that fell afterward was suffocating.  Felicity continued to look shocked, though now it seemed to be because of her slapping him more than what he’d said to deserve the slap in the first place.  Oliver was equally shocked and he felt… well, he didn’t _know_ quite what he felt.   _Alive_.  He breathed hard, staring at her, almost willing her to slap him again. 

The stillness was broken a moment later by the slamming open of the door at the top of the stairs leading down into the Foundry.  Heavy boot steps announced the arrival of John Diggle.  “Oliver,” he called out, seemingly unaware of the moment he’d interrupted, “just got news that another one of Slade’s reported henchmen was just seen down at the bus station, trying to flee town.”

Felicity stepped away to her computers and Oliver strode over to where he’d shed his leathers before.  “Sounds like a great opportunity to fix my mistakes and get the information we need,” he said. 

Dig filled him in on what he’d heard and let him know he’d already contacted Roy to meet them at the station.  As Oliver suited up again and grabbed his bow, he noticed Felicity not meeting his eye.  Was it his imagination or were her cheeks a little flushed?  He continued to wonder as he followed Dig up the stairs and out to the car.  

***

Felicity sat at her computers in the Foundry, inputting the information Oliver had so elegantly extracted from Slade’s henchman.  The difference in results versus earlier in the evening was incredible.  Maybe this guy had been an easier nut to crack, but somehow, she didn’t think so.  She’s listened in on the comms as he had organized both Dig and Roy calmly and efficiently and together, as a team, they had cornered the man.  Instead of the frazzled and frustrated man who’d come back from the earlier spoiled mission, he’d been confident and focused and completely on point.  Even Dig had remarked on it.  

Within an hour, they’d returned to the Foundry.  Dig had shed the usual bulletproof vest he wore out on missions and then, with a clap to Oliver’s shoulder, left to meet up with Lyla at her place.  Roy wandered upstairs to find Thea at Verdant.  Which left Oliver and her alone, him removing his leathers and hood for the second time that night and her, studiously avoiding him.  

Felicity still couldn’t believe she’d _hit_ him.  It’d been a heat of the moment type thing, what he’d said to her and the sardonic manner in which he’d said it had flipped a switch in her.  She’d wanted nothing more than to wipe that ugly smirk off his face.  Partially because she _did_ want the job.  

She’d been half in love with Oliver for months and doing everything she could to shove those feelings aside and work past them.  He was exactly the wrong man for her, completely off limits and dangerous to boot.  Not because of the lifestyle, clearly, since she was already waist-deep in that with no interest in extracting herself from it.  But because she could quite easily see herself losing her heart to this man and to do that would jeopardize their friendship.  Her relationship with Oliver was one of the more precious things in Felicity’s life and she couldn’t bear to do anything to endanger it. 

But she’d done just that by hitting him.  Her palm still stung with the remembrance of striking his stubbled cheek.  It had felt so good to let her emotions take her over for a moment but in the aftermath, her doubts had crept in and now she couldn’t meet his eye.  He was probably furious with her.  Or embarrassed.  God, she wasn’t sure which was worse. 

So she busied herself with her computers, hyper-aware of Oliver moving around behind her.  She could _feel_ his eyes on her back and it made the hairs on the back of her neck stand at attention. 

For a few minutes, the only sound was the clacking of the keys on her keyboard.  Then she heard Oliver clear his throat.  “Felicity, please look at me.”

She froze and didn’t turn around.  “I suppose its too much to ask that we both just forget that I hit you?”

“Felicity.”

Shit.  She swiveled in her chair until she faced him.  He stood before her in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, his arms crossed over his chest.  He watched her and his expression was inscrutable.  Felicity took a deep breath and steeled herself. 

Oliver sighed and uncrossed his arms.  “I’m sorry.  For before. I shouldn’t have… I provoked you.”

 _He_ was apologizing to _her_? “Wait, no.  Oliver, I’m the one that’s sorry.  I shouldn’t have-” She paused to swallow nervously before continuing with a whisper, “-hit you.”

His expression smoothed out and a smile threatened to lift the corners of his lips. “I deserved it.  And, to tell you the truth, I think it helped.”

“Huh?”  Felicity stood up, feeling awkward with the way she had to crane her neck to look up at him.  “What do you mean, it helped?”

“You hitting me, it cleared my head. I was able to focus when we went after that guy.”  His eyes pierced into hers.  “Felicity, I’m glad you hit me.  I… I think I liked it.” 

Her breath left her in a rush.  “What?”  The room seemed to tilt.  She had not expected him to say _that_.  

Oliver stepped closer.  “When you hit me, it felt like something in me… unlocked.  I think I needed that, Felicity.” 

“What are you saying, Oliver?”

“I’m saying that you were right.  I need something else.  Clearly, sex isn’t doing the trick for me.  It’s not helping me focus and it’s certainly not helping me forget.”

“So you want me to slap you before you go out on missions?” she asked.  What was she missing here? 

Felicity was surprised to see him flush, the tips of his ears turning red.  He looked down and was suddenly so awkward that she felt something shift inside her chest.  She stepped closer and reached out to touch his arm, curling her fingers around his elbow.  He seemed to calm when she did that and raised his eyes to meet hers. 

“I don’t have a right to ask you,” he said in a low voice.  

“Ask me what?” she whispered. 

“To hit me.”

Felicity swallowed thickly.  “You don’t mean slapping you.  Like I did tonight.  Do you?”

Oliver shook his head. “No, I don’t.  I think…”  He trailed off, and shifted a little nervously.  “I’d like you to hit me.”

She was starting to get an idea of what he was talking about.  Visions of various kinky magazines, internet websites and movies flitted through her mind.  Oh, _my._  “Oliver…” 

“It’s a lot to ask.  Too much to ask.”  He stepped back, shoving his hands in his jeans pockets.  

“No, it’s just… why didn’t you ask Sara?  I’m sure she’s got a stronger backhand than I do,” she pointed out, cracking a smile and hoping to make light of the situation.  

He scrubbed his hands over his face.  “I can’t… do this with her.  Sara is too much like me.  She has the same demons I do.  It wouldn’t… be the same.” 

“Why not?”  Sara was his girlfriend right now, wasn’t she?  Wasn’t this the sort of thing he’d want to share with her?

“Because she wouldn’t be doing it for the same reasons you would,” Oliver told her. 

It made no sense to her but he was clearly very serious about this and very nervous about asking her for this.  She couldn’t deny that he seemed to feel better after their scene earlier and regardless of everything else going on in their lives, she always was concerned with how Oliver was doing.  He was important to her in a way she was hesitant to define and she knew she could not deny him something he needed. 

“You think you need this?” Felicity asked, biting into her lower lip. 

He nodded slowly.  “Maybe?  Maybe we could… try something?  Maybe tomorrow before everyone shows up?”  His blue eyes pleaded with her and her discomfort seemed to melt away. 

“Always up for experimentation,” she mumbled and then caught herself, flushing.  Oliver smiled at her, the first genuine smile she’d seen on his face all night.  That only made her blush harder.  

“Sara’s right.  You’re pretty cute,” he said.  “Especially when you blush.”

“Alright, first rule:  You can’t say things like that and then expect me to hit you,” Felicity said, wagging a finger at him.  

One of his eyebrows cocked.  “I don’t know, maybe saying things like that will piss you off, make you want to hit me harder.”  His grin was downright lecherous.  

Felicity groaned, a hand going up to rub at her temples.  “I’m going to regret this.” 

***

They talked for a bit before Felicity finally put her foot down and said she had to get home and get to bed or she wouldn’t be worth a hill of beans at work the next morning.  Neither of them knew much about BDSM or Dominant/submissive relationships, but Oliver had some ideas of what he’d like to try.  But he was very concerned that he was asking too much of her.  The more he worried about it, the calmer Felicity found she felt.  She had to assure him repeatedly that she wanted to help him however she could, and this was no different.  

That night, Felicity had a hell of a time getting to sleep.  For a while, she debated on releasing a bit of tension herself before deciding she didn’t feel up to it.  Plus, that wouldn’t help with the crazy thoughts running through her mind. The evenings events kept running through her mind as she tossed and turned.  Finally, she’d dropped off close to two o’clock in the morning and had dreams of being dressed up in shiny latex and trying to whip Oliver who was chained to a wall and begging her to stop, only to have the whip turn into a poisonous viper that bit her over and over and over… 

When she stopped for coffee on her way to work in the morning, she went for the double shot of espresso.  

Oliver didn’t come in for another hour after she got there, which gave her plenty of time to go through emails and files and get everything ready for him when he did finally roll in, his own cup of coffee clutched in his hand.  He nodded at her and smiled before retreating to his office.  She wondered if he was regretting what he’d asked her the night before.  Would he pretend it hadn’t happened?

Felicity worried until her instant messaging software popped up a box on her computer screen.  It was a message from Oliver that said: 

 

**O_Queen: Still on for this evening?**

 

Breathing out a breath she hadn’t even been aware she’d been holding, Felicity quickly typed out her answer:

 

**F_Smoak: Yes.  Unless you’re having second thoughts?**

**O_Queen: I’m not.  Are you?**

**F_Smoak: I’m in if you’re in.  Do you know what you want me to do yet?**

 

There was a pause and Felicity snuck a glance through the glass that separated their offices to see Oliver looking at the computer screen with thoughtful expression.  

 

**O_Queen: I think I need to do a little research.  You too.**

**F_Smoak: You’re right.  Let me see what I can find.**

 

She pulled up a browser and began to search.  She learned fairly quickly that searching an umbrella term like “BDSM” yielded a lot of results and was rather overwhelming.  But she was a whiz with this sort of thing and doing internet research like this was one of her strengths.  Pretty soon, she’d weeded out the gratuitous porn and found the truly informative websites and message boards.  Still, it was an almost overwhelming amount of information and she ended up taking notes into a document, detailing links to demonstrative videos and glossary terms.  Once she felt she’d found what Oliver probably needed to figure out what he wanted her to do, she sent him the document attached to an email.  

Felicity peeked through the windows as Oliver read through and clicked links, nibbling her lip a little nervously.  Her nerves settled as a smile bloomed across his face with each link he visited.  Maybe this meant that they were on the right track. 

Needless to say, not much Queen Consolidated work got accomplished that day but the research was important and Felicity had to do quite a bit of reading.  She didn’t want to hurt him, at least, not more than he needed her to.  And she could tell that there was a fine line as well as a great responsibility on her part to know what she was doing.  

At the end of the day, Oliver strode up to her desk and held out his hand.  She took it and as he walked her to the elevator, he exchanged a look with Dig who was prepared to follow them.  

“Felicity and I will meet you at the Foundry in a couple hours.  Sound good?” 

Dig glanced between the two of them and then nodded.  

Felicity gave him a smile as the elevator doors closed, hoping that he wouldn’t wonder or worry too much about what was going on.  Often, the three of them would get dinner together before heading to the Foundry and she hated to think that maybe he was feeling left out. Or curious.  Oh god, what if he thought she and Oliver had something going and were sneaking around?

_Actually, that’s exactly what they were doing.  Oh shit._

In the parking garage, they took Felicity’s Mini and Oliver settled in to the passenger seat as though he belonged there.  She’d half expected him to take the keys from her and insist on driving but she realized, as she started up the car and backed out of her spot, that he was already putting the power in her hands.  A nervous but excited tingle worked through her at the thought.  This was a new experience for her and she hoped she could do it justice  For Oliver. As she drove through the streets of Starling on her way to the Foundry, she worked on pushing her nerves and uncertainties aside.  For this to work, Oliver would need to believe she was confident in her power over him.  And she would do whatever it was Oliver needed her to do. 

***

Oliver kept an eye on Felicity as they entered the Foundry.  He kept expecting her to break down, to tell him she couldn’t do this, to show that she was nervous.  But she seemed to be calm and collected and he had to admit that seeing her this way made him feel relaxed too.  He didn’t know if this would work, if this was even what he really needed, but then he’d remember how he felt after she slapped him and knew he had to try.  

Already, he could feel the stress and pressure starting to creep in on him, fracturing his focus and eroding his calm.  

Tonight they were supposed to infiltrate Slade’s headquarters.  With the information he’d been able to extract from the henchman last night and Felicity’s impeccable hacking skills, they knew where to find him.  However, this wasn’t the night to take him down.  No, there’d need to be a great deal of planning and preparation before his team could manage that.  In the meantime, they would collect as much information as possible, so tonight he and Sara would sneak in and plant bugs.  Just as Slade had bugged the Queen mansion (which he’d discovered thanks to Roy earlier that day), they would bug his stronghold and try to gain as much intel as possible while formulating a strategy. 

But in order to get the operation accomplished without any slipups, Oliver would need to be focused and ready and he knew he needed this time with Felicity in order to achieve that. 

He waited while she stowed her jacket and purse at her desk.  She turned to him and considered him as he stood before her, his hands in his pockets, waiting for her move.  Did she have a plan?  He wondered what it would be.  His palms were damp with sweat and his heart was already thudding with anticipation. 

Felicity walked past him to the battered leather sofa that sat off to the side of the mats.  He watched as she ran a hand along it and considered it before she turned back to him. 

“Bare or clothed?” she asked him, an eyebrow arching as she tilted her chin up. 

Oliver opened his mouth to ask her what she meant and then it hit him.  She meant his butt.  Well, obviously.  Why hadn’t they discussed this during all their IM conversations that afternoon?  Without even thinking, he knew what he wanted but did he dare ask it of her?  

Felicity must have seen the hesitation on his face because she stepped closer to him.  “It’s okay, Oliver.  Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

He huffed out a laugh.  She was worried about _him_ being comfortable?  “I still think I’m asking too much of you, Felicity.  We’re not in a relationship and to ask you to spank my bare ass, well… that’s a lot, isn’t it?  It is.  Just say it is and we don’t have to do this.”

“Oliver.”  Her voice was sharp and stern, her lips pressed into a line as she regarded him over the rims of her glasses.  “I wouldn’t have said yes to this if I didn’t want to do it.  It helps you and I want to help you.  That is important to me.  Let me do this.”

She surprised him.  Some of the tension he’d been gathering in his shoulders and in his core lifted and eased and he nodded.  “Alright.  Bare, then.”

With a crisp nod, Felicity stepped back over to the sofa and sat down, making herself comfortable.  She smoothed the skirt of her dress and then patted her lap.  “Pull your trousers down and lay across my lap,” she instructed.  

She didn’t watch as he complied, but his face burned anyhow.  Maybe he wished she would look, that she would want to look.   _No, Oliver.  Keep the lines drawn._

Carefully, he arranged himself over her lap, resting his torso on the sofa and bending his legs at the knee, his feet resting on the arm.  Felicity’s lap was warm under his groin, the fabric of her dress silky against his skin.  He tried to shut out those sorts of feelings.  This was supposed to be a release of tension, after all, and not erotic.  Oliver willed himself to calm down.

“Do you remember what you read about safewords earlier, Oliver?” she asked him.  She hadn’t touched him yet and he found he was practically itching for it.  

“Yes.  Red to stop.  Green to keep going.”

“Good.  And yellow if you’re getting close to red, so I can know to back off.”

There was a pause and he thought she might be waiting for him to say something.  But his nerves were frayed and the tension was doing him no favors. “Are you gonna hit me or are we gonna sit here like this all night?” he snapped. 

 _SMACK!_ Felicity’s palm made contact with his left buttcheek, causing a zing to shoot up his spine and spread out towards his fingers and toes.  He gritted his teeth and blew out a breath.  Warmth followed quickly after, a sense of _rightness_ , and he liked it.  Already, he liked it.   

“I’m doing this for you, _hero_ , so don’t be a prick,” she chastised.  “I’d threaten to hit you more or harder, but that’s probably what you want.  So behave or I’ll _stop_ spanking.”

He definitely didn’t want that.  Oliver nodded to indicate his understanding.  

“Good,” she murmured again and he felt her hand stroke over the flesh of his ass.  Maybe she was testing the firmness or the color her first slap had brought to the surface or maybe she wanted to cop a feel.  He wasn’t about to ask.  But he wished she would hurry up and continue before he went mad with anticipation. 

Felicity kept rubbing, her touch getting firmer until Oliver felt nearly dizzy with want and his skin tingled all over his ass and the tops of his thighs.  He was about to ask her when she was going to start the spanking, punishment be damned, when her hand came down sharply on his right cheek. 

A sound escaped him.  She’d surprised him.  But before he had a chance to gather himself, her hand came down again on the other cheek.  All he could do was grab onto the sofa cushion and let the sensations carry him away.  The stinging, much like when she’d slapped him the night before, released something tense inside of him.  Relief surged through him as her hand came down harder, and he grunted with each blow.  

“Where are you at, hero?” Felicity asked, pausing her strikes and rubbing the already inflamed flesh of his ass instead.  “We’re getting a nice coral pink here, which the site I read mentioned was a good thing.  Could be a bit darker though.”

“Green.”

“You may call me Miss Smoak,” she purred. Oliver nearly choked. 

“You’re getting into this, aren’t you?”

“Quiet, hero.”  Stern as she tried to sound, Oliver could hear the edge of amusement in her voice.  She _was_ enjoying this and something about knowing that made him enjoy it even more. 

She began again, gentler swats warming him back up before she hit harder and harder.  The pain was ramping up, slowly but oh so surely and he climbed with it.  There was a rhythm to her blows and Oliver found himself slowly sinking into the steady beat of it.  His skin felt hot and alive all over, the tingles now all over his body and not just where she was striking him.  He felt like he was almost starting to float, no longer anchored to Felicity’s lap, no longer clutching the sofa cushions. The pain, the blows, were still there but they were becoming background noise and the pleasure was surpassing the pain, drowning it out.  

This went on for what felt like ages.  He no longer had a grasp on time or what was happening in the Foundry around them.  It was perhaps the closest he had ever been to a feeling of total bliss and he embraced it with all of his being.  For the first time since the _Queen’s Gambit_ had gone down in the South China Sea, Oliver felt truly free. He was released from everything that had been weighing him down and he never wanted it to end. 

“Oliver?” Felicity’s voice was soft in his ear and he roused himself enough to be aware of her hand stroking down his back in a soothing manner. 

“Mmm?” His tongue wouldn’t connect with his brain to allow him to articulate words. 

“How are you doing?”  When he didn’t reply, she simply continued to stroke his back the way she was.  “I think this is called subspace.  The sounds you were making… you seemed to enjoy it.  I hope you did.”

He couldn’t tell her how much he very much did enjoy it.  But he let her pull him up into a sitting position next to her on the sofa.  She hugged him, nestling her head into the crook of his shoulder and he allowed himself to just breathe in the scent of her hair for several long moments as he came down off of his high. 

As his awareness returned, Oliver realised just how light and empty and free he felt.  He was shaking a little, but he wasn’t cold.  Felicity was murmuring encouragement into his chest and stroking his arm.  Enormous gratitude swamped him.  She did this for him.  Just because she thought it might help him and it had.  He could tell already that it had.  

“Thank you,” he whispered into her hair. Her hand tightened on his bicep. 

“I’m glad I could help,” she mumbled back.  

They sat like that until Oliver was finally able to stop shaking.  Then, Felicity let him go and got to her feet, turning away so he could pull up his boxer briefs and trousers in privacy.  Though, honestly, he knew he wouldn’t have minded her looking.  Not before and definitely not now.  The experience made him feel like tiny little threads, each as strong as a bow-string, had woven them together inexorably.  Felicity had been his girl since day one, and their friendship had only grown stronger over the time he’d known her.  But now she was something else altogether to him and he had no idea what to call it.  He remembered, dimly, that he was involved with Sara but to even think about calling Felicity something as _simple_ as his girlfriend was completely laughable.  

Oliver stepped up behind her and laid a hand on her shoulder.  She turned to look at him, her blue-grey eyes wide behind her glasses.  He smiled at her and she returned it, her eyes warming.  “We’re still good, then?” she asked. 

“More than,” he assured her.  He wanted to kiss her, to do _something_ to seal this bond but he knew the time wasn’t right.  Instead, he leaned down and pressed his lips to her forehead.  She sighed softly, her breath puffing against his neck.  

“You want to do it again sometime?” she asked, sounding almost hopeful.  His grin widened.  

“Oh, definitely.”  

 


End file.
